Untitled Sequel
by apocalypticangel47
Summary: Det. Tyler is starting her new life in NYC. Can she find a place for herself? Is the I-Rapist's trail of destruction finally complete? Will Munch be able to recover from his wounds? All questions will be answered in due time...
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

_Note: Please read Untitled first._

"Munch? John? John!" I called, shaking his good arm. He opened his eyes quietly and gestured for his glasses. "We've got a case," I whispered. He nodded, trying to rise up. I tried to help him but he shook his head. "Is something wrong?"

"It's been two weeks. It shouldn't be hurting like this," he replied. I nodded.

"I'll drop you off at the doctor, then I have to respond to the scene. I'll talk to Cragen on the way," I whispered. John nodded and allowed me to get him dressed.

It'd been two weeks since we finished the I-rapist case, and John had been housing me ever since. The past three apartments just weren't for me (one looked worse than a crime scene, one was too high for my liking, and the third was next door to a day care center), and John understood as long as I contributed. I'd been doing a lot of things for him, namely because he was still recovering from his gunshot, but also because I had something to work with. Cooking was something I did for stress release, but when I sold my home and moved to a rental property, I gave up that release due to a shoddy kitchen. Now I had a rather nice one to work with, and John definitely noticed its use, as did his coworkers.

I helped John into the car once we were downstairs, and I immediately took him to the physician in charge (after informing Cragen, who put my lead tech in charge until I could make it to the scene). After a few minutes trying to get him examined, John was taken back. I told him to give me a call when the exam was finished, then I rushed to the scene.

"Two victims, one dead," Fin explained, pointing to the covered corpse at the end of the alleyway. "The perp or perps left the scene before the cops responded. A neighbor called in from that apartment over there. Olivia is interviewing them now, and the ME will be here any minute to get the body. The living victim is on his way to Mercy. I'm headed there now, so the scene is yours."

I took over, letting my expertise from my years with the GBI guide my team. Photographs were snapped, evidence was gathered, and a thorough sweep of the perimeter was conducted while the ME took the body away. We found many useful items, along with some not so useful ones, but I felt we'd covered everything well.

My phone rang during the last sweep, and though it was about Munch, it wasn't him.

"I'm calling on behalf of John Munch. This is Dr. Thompson, his physician. We're taking him into surgery right now."

"Surgery?" I asked.

"We did another x-ray to see what was going on with his joint. We expected to find routine fluid or infection, and we did, but we also saw a fragment that was causing the infection. John asked me to call you and get word to your boss."

"I'll do that. Where do I go to see him?"

"Mercy," he replied. "Now if you'll excuse me," he said, hanging up. I sighed and drove back to the precinct to begin doing paperwork while my techs processed everything. But I stopped by Cragen's office first to tell him about Munch. He sighed at the news.

"I'll need someone to help out until the newest people get here. You up for it?" he asked.

"What about my current job? I can't do both sets of paperwork."

"Your techs could use the practice. Process any key pieces of evidence and wait for my call. Fin and Olivia have things covered for now, but we'll need a lead soon."

I followed his orders, sticking with the victims' clothing, a shell casing, and an interesting find in our final sweep. I moved those pieces ahead in their process by adding a rush to them. As soon as I sent the final piece of paperwork, Cragen knocked on my door, calling me out to the center floor.

"Olivia, bring us up to speed on the case," Cragen commanded. I sat on the edge of John's desk to listen.

"Two victims, one male and one female. Two perps forced them into the alleyway. One beat on the man, but he was mainly holding him back. The other one ravaged the woman, raping and beating her. We're still waiting on the ME's report, but she told me at the scene that she may've had a heart attack."

"How old is she?" I asked.

"Twenty-three, but she was not healthy. The neighbor and the man with her confirmed she was often in a wheel chair due to asthma and a weak heart. The neighbor also called the cops after hearing her call out, but she didn't see anything."

"Monty, what did you find at the scene?"

"Not much, at least crime-related. But we found a casing at the scene, along with this," I said, pulling up the photograph on a nearby computer. "I've seen this before, but not in New York. It was the calling card of a serial rapist in South Georgia. How it got up here I'm not sure because we collared him and he got life without parole, just one vote from the death penalty. I haven't looked him up yet, but I'm sure that sentence was upheld."

"What can you tell me about the casing?" Cragen asked.

"It was from a handgun, but judging by the size of the shell, it was a very powerful one. Once we get back the analysis of it, I'll be able to tell you everything about it."

"But neither victim was shot, and he didn't mention a gun," Fin whispered.

"We might be dealing with two different crime scenes," Benson mentioned.

"Monty, tell your people to keep an eye out for that. Then you can join Fin with the ME."

"Where's Munch?" Fin asked.

"In surgery. Apparently they missed a fragment or something," I replied. They nodded quietly.

Once briefing my team, I joined Fin with the medical examiner.

"Your victim definitely died of a heart attack, but it was induced by a violent rape. The vaginal trauma on her suggests two things: the perp used an object or she's younger than they let on."

"The other victim never mentioned an object, but couldn't her frailness affect the rest of her?" Fin asked.

"Not that much. She might look twenty-three and have a twenty-three-year-old's ID, but this body suggests she's younger, much younger. I'd say she's a tall, prepubescent ten-year-old, but she did have asthma and a heart condition. I'm not done with the examination, but I'll keep you updated," Warner explained. We nodded, heading back upstairs.

"So, how did Munch end up back in surgery? Did he collapse or something?" Fin asked.

"It took me a while to wake him up, then he was a little slower than usual getting up. He said it was hurting too much, so I took him to his doctor. They used an x-ray to check for infection, and they found a fragment that was causing it."

"So you're standing in for him? You've got some tough shoes to fill."

"I know, but I've learned a lot in my two weeks with you guys. He taught me well."

"I hope so because things are going to get interesting," Fin whispered, using his head to gesture to the FBI agents that had filled the area.

"Agent Lin, join my team in here," Cragen called, gesturing to us to join them. We went inside, taking our places around Agent Lin, FBI. I remembered her from my neck of the woods. She took over one of our cases outside her jurisdiction once, angering both our boss and hers. She was lucky she still had a job, and I think she knew it.

"What's this about?" Fin asked. Agent Lin took a breath to speak, but Cragen held up his hand.

"Tyler, you were right," Cragen whispered.

"David Janice escaped two weeks ago from the maximum security cell that was supposed to hold him in. He's back to his old game, and he's got victims on back roads all the way to New York. He's got a new calling card though: he shoots his victims, then uses their immobility to take even more advantage of them. He killed two women in Pennsylvania, raping and robbing both of them. He stole their car, and we found it in a parking garage two blocks from your current crime scene.

"Your captain said you have evidence that points to him, so we'll need those results once you've finished processing. My counterparts outside want to brief some of your leading agents in catching this guy, because he will not go easy," Agent Lin said to Cragen, who nodded.

"Tyler knows the ropes, so I'm sending her on an errand. You can use the floor to brief the rest," Cragen replied. The room disbursed, leaving Cragen and me behind. "Go check on Munch. I'll keep up contact with your team."

I followed his orders, taking the crowded road to Mercy. I quickly found John, who was in a recovery room but sedated. His doctor noticed me sitting in a chair beside him and came in to brief me.

"He gave me permission to talk to you. He's a lucky man to still have that arm. I want to keep him here for three days to let him heal, and so we can treat his arm. The fragment somehow wiggled out of the bone, which is also infected. He'll be out of commission work-wise for at least three weeks, but I'm going to tell him six and get you to enforce it. He was working himself too hard to begin with, so this one is going to take longer."

"How long until he wakes up?" I asked. He shrugged.

"I'd give him an hour at least, but he was pretty weak when we took him back, so it might be longer," he replied. I nodded, accepting his handshake and taking my seat again. I called Cragen to tell him the news, and he dealt me a curve.

"The evidence matches the case, so both are now with the FBI."

"Both? But the one today doesn't have anything to do with him."

"Agent Lin wanted the case, and...I had no choice but to give it to her. Her supervisor called to confirm, and I had to accept."

"But that's not her jurisdiction. She's done this before with another case, and she nearly lost her job. Why would she do it again?"

"You know her from your neck of the woods?" Cragen asked. I answered with an approving sound. Cragen sighed. "They said she was new, meaning they transferred her. I'll keep an eye on things, but there's nothing we can do. Besides, there's another case here already. You can stay with Munch until we get a crime scene to comb through."

"Thanks," I whispered, and we soon ended the call.

I was soon flipping through a newspaper over a deli sandwich from the hospital cafeteria while I waited for John to wake up. Nothing major was in the headlines for me now that the I-rapist was dead and his copycat was in prison. He ordered a speedy trial, and the FBI delivered. Though they wanted to exonerate him to Georgia where the death penalty was still in place, they decided his consecutive life terms were enough of a sentence.

But no other headlines interested me. I ended up with the comics, reading through them all without a single laugh. I solved the day's Sudoku puzzle within five minutes, then I finished my sandwich.

My phone rang and I answered it without looking at the ID. It was Leslie, who was dying for some friend contact after a dry week without me. Georgia was still raking in big cases even if I wasn't.

"So, where are you today?" Leslie asked.

"Waiting for Munch to wake up," I replied. "The fragment moved and he's got an infection, but hopefully the surgery will help."

"That man just can't catch a break. Well I hope he feels better soon. Any jobs, or is he your task for today?" she asked.

"I'm actually filling in for him, as well as running my lab. There's a case, but we're not on it. The joys of having multiple people around," I smiled. Leslie made an agreeing tone. "So how's everything looking down there?"

"It's been raining here, so the florist got Sean a water lily for this week. I'll email you the pictures once my computer gets fixed. And...an old friend of yours called from Alabama, or rather an old friend of Sean's. He had some things he wanted to give you, but I volunteered to take them. Are you still staying with John?"

"For now," I replied.

"I'll ship it there when I get a chance. Um...have you started talking to that guy yet?"

"My first appointment is tomorrow," I whispered, watching a nurse come in and check on Munch. "I'm not ready for it, but I have no choice. Luckily tomorrow is just a Q-and-A session, so hopefully it'll go well."

"Keep me posted. Oh, I'll send another box of tea for you too. I bet you're dying from withdrawal right now," she giggled. I agreed, then we ended our call.

Munch didn't wake up for another two hours, and when he did we merely briefed him and let him go back to sleep. He was very weak, and I wondered how long he'd actually felt that bad. He was a hider, but I wondered how far he would go to hide an illness just to avoid treatment.

I left him for the evening to catch up on some things at work, and after picking up my new laptop from John's apartment and a quick dinner, I returned to the hospital to keep him company. And I wasn't alone: Fin was standing outside on his phone when I got there. When the call ended, he sighed and looked up to me.

"Thought it was going to be a quiet day, but we've got a case. How's he doing? He wouldn't wake up when I was in there."

"He's tired and weak," I whispered. Fin nodded. "Am I needed for the case?"

"Nah, but he said he'd call if he needed you. Why are you here though?"

"Paying him back I guess. He's had to deal with me a lot over the past few weeks, so my being here is just repaying the debt a little."

"John won't make you owe him. Truly he's a lonely man now days. He likes his nights alone, but having someone to talk to would do him some good. Stay with him unless you think you're becoming a burden, otherwise stay put. But you didn't hear that from me," Fin winked. "The victim will be here any minute, so I'm heading down to the ER to meet her."

My phone rang a moment later, so he went towards the elevators. I was soon following him: I had a crime scene to process.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

"The victim was raped over there behind those trees. She was assaulted here and dragged there," Olivia explained. I sent my team to work then followed Olivia to an eyewitness, a couple of teenage girls.

"When can we leave?" the blonde one asked, smacking on her gum like her life depended on it.

"Just tell us what you saw and you might be able to leave when we're done," Olivia sighed. The red-head sighed.

"We saw a tall, black guy grab some woman from the bushes. He was hitting her and trying to drag her over there. We ran off after that."

"What did she look like?" I asked.

"Short, brown hair. She was yelling at him in Spanish, but he didn't know it I guess," the blonde one replied.

"What was she saying in Spanish?" Benson asked.

"That he shouldn't be here. Then he started dragging her over there and she started screaming 'Help!' in English."

One of my techs tapped my shoulder, and I followed him into the bushes.

"We found this, a class ring fitting our victim's age. But this is the concerning piece of evidence," he explained, holding up a small notebook in his gloved hand. "Our vic was a journalist, and not a clean one. He was an informant judging by this entry. We'll read through the rest when we have time, but...I think he turned on her."

After processing the scene and getting nowhere with our eyewitnesses, Olivia went back to the station to fill out the paperwork and I returned to Mercy to see what Fin discovered from our victim.

"She knew him alright, but she's also protecting him," Fin told me in the hallway. "Until we find something to get her talking, we'll never catch him."

"Any ideas?" I asked. He shrugged.

"Just get that evidence processed fast, or at least process the kickers that way. By the way, we have to arrest her on drug charges, so she's going to be under lockdown all night. I sent in the clothes and rape kit for your lab guys to process, but she'll still be here if you need her."

"Thanks. I'm going to go up and get something I forgot from John's room, then I'll go back to the station and get things processed."

"Don't overwork yourself, but thanks for the rush," Fin nodded, heading outside.

Once in John's room, I gathered my things quietly. Before I left, I noticed he was awake.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"We got a case, so I'm going to process the scene overnight. Why do you ask?"

"I heard Fin here earlier, but I couldn't wake up to respond," he replied quietly. "How long am I going to be here?"

"Until you're ready. Don't push yourself, John. We need you well, not sick and tired."

"I'll try to remember that about day three or four."

"If you need a week or more, you'll take it," I said sternly, pulling up the chair closer to his bed. "Why are you so stubborn?"

"I've been in plenty of hospitals in my day, and I have plenty of bad memories to keep me from going back. You're probably too young to know about how things used to be."

"You'd be surprised. I had some ill family when I was younger and we used to visit them. I watched a doctor tourniquet someone's arm because they thought it would cure their fever. I heard them recommend to one of my family members an amputation for infected cut. I've seen some pretty terrible medical tactics, but I faith that things have changed. This is just a fluke that happens sometimes. At least we caught it, and now you can heal."

"I still hate hospitals, but fine. Just...sneak me in some food okay? I've seen better food in the hands of dumpster divers," he spat. I smiled.

"Fine. I need to go, but I'll come by tomorrow to check on you."

"For the boss?"

"I imagine he'd want that, but...you'd do the same for me, I'd hope. And I go to that shrink tomorrow, and I know you'll want to hear the aftermath."

"Looks like we'll both be having a bad day. Just don't forget to rest. Shrinks prey on weakness," he smirked.

"I'll try, but work is more important right now. And the same to you: enjoy some days off sleeping in your own bed with working cable," I smiled. He smiled in response and watched me leave.

Around four in the morning, I finished processing the last piece of evidence. I gathered the paperwork and submitted it around five, just in time to see Cragen walking in. He sighed and accepted my paperwork.

"Go home," he said quietly, setting the file down on the corner of his desk. "And don't come back until after you get some sleep."

"I'll come by after my appointment this afternoon," I responded. He sat down and looked over to me.

"How do you feel about that appointment?"

"I think it's been established how much I need it, but I'm still nervous. He's just asking questions today, but I still don't know how it will go."

"You must be a planner," Cragen murmured. I nodded in agreement. "Listen, just do what you have to do and put it out of your mind. You need to relax, and after working yourself like a dog, you need some sleep. Go home, and take care of yourself."

I obeyed, but sleeping proved hard. The couch I was sleeping on was perfectly fine, but my mind wouldn't calm. So I turned on some music using his entertainment center. All he had were some records that weren't my taste, but it was better than my own thoughts.

I didn't realize I had slept until my alarm went off. I had an hour to get to my appointment, meaning I had slept for five straight hours.

I took a quick shower and rode my bike to the office. I locked it beside the building and went inside.

After filling out a mound of paperwork, I was called back. I shook hands with the doctor, a Dr. Illias. He had me sit in a comfortable chair by a window while he sat on a stool in front of me.

"I just wanted to ask questions today if you don't mind. We're going to start in the beginning of your life and work our way up, alright?" he asked. I nodded, and he began. "How was your childhood?"

"Happy and prosperous."

"What was your family dynamic? Were your parents married? How many siblings did you have?"

"We were a typical family. My parents married and had two children. I have an older brother who's in the Navy. I haven't seen him in four years thanks to our jobs."

"What were your parents' careers? How did you choose yours? Do you like your job?"

"My father was a banker, and my mother was a homebody who used her hobbies for any extra money. I've always liked law enforcement, though I was thinking homely sheriff when I attended. I met another person in college who is now my best friend, and she led me to the agent's life. We went into the GBI together and I was there until a few weeks ago."

"Why the change in careers?"

"My husband was killed. He was considered a special victim, and...I wanted to help catch his killer, but I couldn't. I had this void because of it, so I put in for a job here in New York for a position in their Special Victims Unit. I wanted a change in location too. I love Georgia and the South, but...I wanted a new challenge to go with my new life."

"Have you gotten closure for your husband's death or are you still trying to find it through your career?"

"His killer his dead, and the killer's copycat accomplice is in prison, so I do have some closure. And though my career has taken a different turn, I see it's good. I'm helping others find closure, and it's rewarding."

"What's your job now if it didn't work out?"

"I process crime scenes specifically for the Special Victims Unit, and while one of their investigators is out of work on an injury, I'm filling in while fulfilling my other duties."

"This sounds stressful. What do you do to relieve it?"

"I've always enjoyed cooking as a stress release, but I also just relax some. Music seems to help too."

"What about friends? Do you have any in New York?"

"I stayed with some friends when I first got here, but they're new parents, so we don't talk much. I'm still in heavy contact with my old partner at the GBI. She and I are very close, and I don't see that changing any time soon. Also, my new coworker, mentor, and new roommate and I are good friends. He's currently in the hospital from an injury, but I consider him a good friend already."

"What have you done to get more?"

"I've been working, and chilling out isn't really a priority while I'm in my current position. I'll probably go to comedy clubs or something, but I'm content with what I have."

"I'm going to push into some hard ground now. Are you up for that?" he asked. I nodded quietly, knowing where he was going. "I want to talk about your husband, but you can choose where we start, what we talk about, and anything else, but I'm not going to push you if you don't want to talk."

"I want to talk about him," I whispered. "Grieving for him has been my life, you know? After he died, I had to move from our home because it was too much. Sean was my life, and without him in it, I needed a change."

"He meant a lot to you?"

"More than you could imagine," I sighed. "We were best friends, not just lovers. Our marriage was only a formality: we would've been together anyway."

"You mentioned that you needed to change your life because he wasn't in it, so you had to what? Push him out?"

"No! Of course not. I needed out of the lifestyle he and I had together because without him, that lifestyle made no sense to me. We used to do things on the weekend with Leslie and her husband, and we'd do little romantic things for each other if the other didn't get home until late. My change of residence and careers wasn't to forget; it was to keep from groveling. Believe me, he's still a major part of my life."

"What special things do you do for him?"

"I have a florist in Georgia make an arrangement for him every week. I still carry his picture with me. He did the same for me though I never did it before he died," I whispered, pulling the picture from my breast pocket. "My friend Leslie made a scrapbook about us too. We were all good friends."

"I'll be honest with you, Monty: I think you're behaving normally and coping well. Yet, you gave me private statements from a John Munch and your boss. They said you were having episodes about Sean, so could you explain that?"

"When Sean was killed, we didn't know he was killed by a serial rapist. Both his rapist and killer and the killer's copycat accomplice came to New York. I was working the case and...I started putting two and two together. I never expected that, so I did have some episodes. Even if you're not in crime, you don't expect your new job to connect to your personal life in such a way."

"Our time is almost up, but...I'll leave it up to you whether or not you want to come back. I think you could use help to continue working through, but I think you're on a decent path on your own."

"I think my boss would want for me to stick it out. I'll be back," I responded. He nodded, shaking my hand and having his secretary gather my next appointment.

A few minutes later, I was riding my bike to the precinct, letting the cool afternoon air calm my soul. 


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

"Monty? Let me tell you about the day," Cragen said, calling me into his office. "Your quick processing help us catch her perp before he could get a proper getaway. He's already been arraigned, and we don't have any more crime scenes for today, so go home."

I didn't like that idea, but I obeyed.

I gathered some quick ingredients on my way home, and I cooked them quickly back at the apartment. I wrapped two dishes to look like one and drove over to Mercy to see John, who was awake and watching a baseball game mindlessly.

"I'm nearly catatonic I'm so bored. Please tell me your day was better."

"It was okay. I went to my appointment after getting some good sleep, and I went to work afterwards. He didn't have anything for me so he sent me home."

"What's in the bag?" John asked. I grinned, looking around.

"I brought myself some dinner, if you don't mind me eating in front of you," I whispered, showing him that I had two plates without showing the nurses outside. "It's a healthy stir-fry, and hopefully it won't give you heartburn."

"It could make me burst into flames and I'd still eat it. Anything is better than that poison they were going to serve me," he spat.

A knock sounded at the door and we looked up to see Olivia.

"I thought I'd stop by and see you, and drop off a treat, but I see you've already got something," she grinned. John had already shoved a bite into his mouth, so he couldn't say anything. "Monty, thanks for that all-nighter. Having his DNA within four hours helped us track down her rapist quickly."

"I do what I can," I responded. She nodded, looking over to Munch while he ate then back to me.

"We really like having a crime scene leader working so close to us, especially if it helps us get our guys faster. Technology I know is a help, but so is man power."

"How many of us are there now?" Munch asked, his plate cleared.

"Just Fin and me," Olivia sighed. "I'd count you, Monty, but you're our specialist. You can't do both at the same time."

"That's what Cragen wants, but he's still relaying most of the work to you two. I was under the impression that you'd have reinforcements soon since the caseload won't stay down forever," I replied. She nodded in agreement as Munch reached for a bucket. So much for his home cooked meal.

After making sure he was okay, Munch asked us to leave while he navigated to the bathroom with a nurse's help. Olivia and I went for a walk around the building, stopping in a breezeway that overlooked the street.

"I was really worried about him when I heard he was here, but I know not to say anything. He isn't the sentimental type, no matter what the occasion, but especially when he's the one being doted on. I'm surprised he lets you anywhere near him."

"Fin told me he was rather lonely, so maybe he feels he can relate to me, that or he knows I'd be lonely too. I have friends here, but nothing like I had back home."

"I've been meaning to talk you about Georgia. What was it like working with the GBI with your best friend?"

"She always had my back, no matter what the situation, and I always had hers. Once we were caught in a drug raid together, and she punched a perp to keep him from him from shooting me. I've helped her in the same way, and...after everything with Sean, our bond got stronger. She knew him too, and we did couple things all the time before he passed, but nothing like what we did afterwards."

"I heard that she helped you find a place to live. Why did you move?" she asked. I sighed. "If you don't want to answer, it's okay."

"It's fine. Um...there were too many memories there. Sean and I moved in together, and we made that house a home together. Without him, I just couldn't stay without being depressed. I had a job to do, so I left. Leslie helped me find a suitable rental, and she'd help me find an apartment if she were here."

"How is it living with Munch?"

"It's weirder living without him since I feel like I'm invading his home, but it's nice. He even helped me try to find a unit in the building, but they were all out of my price range. Most of them were higher than I would like as well."

"I imagine country living is a lot different than living here."

"Completely different," I responded, following her back to Munch's room. "It was always quiet where I lived, and now there's constant noise. My mind and ears will never be the same," I grinned, following her into Munch's room where he had turned on his television to a game.

Olivia's phone rang and she stepped out to take the call. Munch shifted on the bed as I took my regular seat.

"The nurses said the medicines I'm on probably made my stomach more sensitive, so I have to stick with their food. If it kills me, you can have the apartment."

"Oh, John, at least try not to be pessimist," I smirked. "I've done some shopping for the place since some things were running out, if that's okay with you."

"It's your home too as long as you're staying there, so pick up anything you need," he responded, glaring at the chattering announcers on the screen. "I wanted to watch him pitch, but I guess I'd have to be there."

"No games for you until you're healed."

"Yes, Mom," he said sarcastically as Olivia returned to the room.

"Cragen needs us," she whispered. She smiled to Munch. "We can't wait to have you back, John."

"I can't wait to be back. Are you sure I have to stay here?"

"Yes, John," we replied together. He scoffed at us as we left together.

On the way to the crime scene, Olivia briefed me using Cragen's words.

"He said the victim is a twenty-three year old woman who's been abused before, but this is the first time she's been raped. She's currently still at the scene, and they're waiting to transport her until one of us gets there. Fin is caught in traffic, so we'll likely be first."

"Was she injured?" I asked. Olivia, who was driving, nodded.

"She's conscious and stable, but I'm using this siren for a reason," Olivia whispered, using a small bike lane to help her pass cars.

Soon we were at the scene, which was highly chaotic. Other officers were there trying to do the job of my technicians, and I sent them all away once I saw they were the problem. Eventually it was just my team and I processing the scene, until Fin arrived from across the city.

"Where's Olivia?" Fin asked.

"I thought she went with the victim when they transported her. She even gave me the eyes to the car so I could take it back for her."

"She's not at the hospital like Cragen wanted. I'll put out the bulletin and start looking for her. You keep doing what you're doing, but watch yourself," Fin said sternly, speeding off.

We were very cautious but still thorough, and soon every piece of evidence we could gather was in our truck. I asked my team to wait while I called for orders. Cragen sighed when I asked.

"Join up with Fin at Central Park. Her badge was found there, but I don't think there's a scene," he replied.

I sent my team back to the precinct to begin processing, then I raced to Central Park. Once there, I quickly found Fin and the scene. Fin had already bagged the badge and the items around it, but I looked around for more while he kept up with officers on foot via radio. He was also in communication a Mercy team (headed by Munch, which I wasn't happy about), and another team manning the streets under Cragen's command, meaning this scene was about as chaotic as I remembered a missing person case being.

"There's something more near the tunnels that you should check out. Dailey, go with her!" Fin commanded. The officer watched my back while I made my way there and processed what I found (an old, stained t-shirt and a notebook a lot like Olivia's).

After another hour with nothing, I was sent back to the precinct to process the evidence as quickly as possible. I immediately found fingerprints on her badge (a man who wasn't in the system), hair on an old chip bag found nearby (one from Olivia, another from an unknown person), and a strange substance on the old t-shirt.

As I began running further tests, I received word that they had another lead that sent them far from the crime scene: near the harbors. My heart sank, but I kept my eye on the jobs at hand.

I talked with my team, who gave me what little they had without extensive testing.

"The fingerprint matches mine," I whispered, comparing the two computerized files. The team agreed, and I immediately ran to check my more extensive testing of the print. And since the same odd substance from the shirt was on a shoe found at the rape scene, I knew to rush that test along as well.

Another hour passed without word from anyone, but I kept working. Finally, I found a man for my prints, a man who was supposed to be in jail: the I-rapist copycat. 


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Federal agents joined up, and soon the once chaotic scene was now indistinguishable. Foot officers working the case had no idea who to take orders from, who to report to, and more importantly what to do. With this breakdown in communication occurring, I had to help out in any way I could, which sent me to Mercy Hospital to interview the rape victim, and to check on the new commander, since Munch's doctors quickly begged and received their replacement leader.

With Munch sedated and doing well, I focused on the victim, who had just returned from surgery when I arrived. The rapist had slashed her arm, cutting the muscle to wear it needed to be repaired. She barely reacted to seeing me, but the three officers behind me and the two outside the door scared her.

"What's going on?"

"Do you remember talking to Detective Benson?"

"Yeah, I thought she rode with me here," she replied.

"It doesn't appear that way. She's gone, and it appears she's been kidnapped."

"I remember the paramedics saying something about 'there's no room for you or her.' Could that help her? I hope you find her: she saved me from my childhood."

"We're going what we can, but that's a good lead. If you think of anything, here's my cell number," I whispered. She nodded sternly, and I felt in my heart that she wasn't playing me. But I knew from her crime scene that we were dealing with the I-rapist's copycat, who hastily gathered the calling cards he was able to leave, and I knew the paramedics and anyone watching them would hold our clues.

After calling in this piece of information, I was sent back to the scene for more investigating. I talked to local business owners, who gave the usual "we didn't see anything" act. They were willing to give me their camera footage, which I immediately went back to the precinct with.

By now, night had fallen, making the footage more valuable. I sat up at Munch's desk with his portable TV that could play VCR tapes (which I thought no one used anymore). I played with the placement until I found the incident. I scoured the scene, eventually finding the evidence we could use to help find him.

Cragen answered my call immediately.

"He was wearing an EMT uniform at the scene. He took Olivia into a moving van though, which was driven by somewhere else," I said quickly.

"Your techs just called. The substance at both the scene and the park matched a corrosive acid used to eat through the impurities on delicate metals. Can you get any more clues with that van?" he asked.

"I'll get back to you," I responded.

I quickly hung up and took the tape to the technical services. They helped me enhance the tape to see the license plate and driver. We called in the numbers, but then it was back to waiting.

I helped process menial evidence with my team until eleven. My phone rang soon after, and Cragen announced that the FBI had officially kicked the NYPD off the case, saying "we had our time, now it's their turn."

"I'm not objecting," Cragen whispered. "If this doesn't get us more man power, nothing will."

I knew from that statement exactly why he hadn't hired anyone: they didn't want him to. I let him go further, but he did not.

"Go check on Munch and go home, Monty. Fin's already there checking up on our victim, but he said you did a pretty good job with what time you had. Good work," he whispered. I thanked him, but the call didn't go much further.

At midnight I walked into Munch's room, against the orders of an orderly. Munch told him off, letting him know it was for work purposes. The door was closed and I pulled up my chair to where I could talk without being too loud.

"What's the latest news? They cut me out of the loop hours ago."

"The FBI took over," I replied, sighing. "We weren't fast enough for them, so now they want their turn. We found some good evidence for them, and hopefully we can find enough to find her."

"Everything always works out," Munch whispered. I did a double take on his words. "What?"

"Why is 'Mr. Pessimist' being positive all of the sudden?"

"Olivia and I have known each other for many years, and I want her to be okay. Things like this have happened before though, and we always come out okay," he replied quietly. I sighed again.

"We never had this happen in Georgia. Sure, we had abductions occur in the state, and we've had serial murderers and rapists. But we've never had a serial rapist's copycat-slash-accomplice kidnap a Special Victims caseworker, let alone an officer get abducted period. I know New York has its share of problems, but I didn't think this was one of them either."

"We can't help that the world we live in is surrounded by dark and evil forces, and we can't help that even the highest powers available are sometimes just as corrupt as the evil they're supposed to fight. That's the world, and I've always believed that."

"I used to believe in the world so much. I didn't think it was all bunnies and rainbows, but I didn't think that Satan had taken over. Now I'm beginning to wonder with all the horrible things I've been through this year. And to make matters worse, this text from Leslie says that she and Drew are near divorce. I know that happens too, but...what happened to the happiness? It's like it all died with Sean," I sighed. John did too, and I felt his arm touch my shoulder.

"All of the world's happiness can't die with one person, but...I'm not even going to try to be positive with you. I can just ask that you attempt to be positive, and that you be very careful tonight."

"I'm not even tired," I whispered, realizing I might get kicked out without a good reason to stay.

"I'm exhausted because damned nurses keep bothering me every ten minutes," John sighed. I smirked.

"Hospital living isn't fun, huh? Be glad you haven't been navigating city traffic all evening."

"I prefer it to radio chatter, and they took that from me before seven. It's my arm that's hurt, not my brain."

"But all of you should rest. I feel like I'm disturbing you by keeping the conversation going because you need your sleep."

"Fine, but have someone escort you home," he whispered a moment after I had stood from my chair.

"Who said I was leaving?" I asked. I walked over to his window and looked to the city below. It made me miss home seeing so many lights and so few stars, but it was too late now: I was in New York to stay, at least until the job was done, yet it never was.

"I thought you'd like to know there's a memorial tomorrow for the victims of the I-rapists and their families. It's at the harbor tomorrow morning," Munch whispered. I turned around quickly. "What did I say?"

"I've got to call Cragen," I whispered, digging through my bag to find my purse. When I did, I realized it was ringing. Investigators had made the same realization, and they were canvasing the event space while Cragen asked what I knew about it. But since it was Munch who told me, I knew to put him on the line.

Once he's expended all of his knowledge on the event, he ended the call. We sat in silence waiting for a response, but after thirty minutes, we'd received nothing. I sat in the chair, my head in my hands, until I heard someone knock at the door lightly. It was Fin, who came in despite the yelling orderly.

"Cragen was asked not to make any more calls after me to prevent security issues," he whispered, closing the door in the orderly's face and flashing his badge. "They found Olivia, but it isn't good. The sick freak made her wear clothing with acid on it. Her torso is okay for now because she managed to get the shirt off when she was in the park, but he tied her to a support beam underneath an event stage at the harbor. She'll be here soon, but...they don't know if she's going to make it."

"What's the security issue?" I asked. Fin sighed longer than I wanted him to, but he gave me his answer.

"There were five others tied below and no sign of the rapist. Three of the five were already dead, the other two close to it. Olivia was his last victim and his most personal, as was the rape he committed earlier. She didn't mention she was his relative until she realized they were looking for DeAndre Tucker. Apparently he wore a mask this time," Fin whispered.

"Where do we go from here?" I sighed.

"I'd say home, but I'm afraid to go there, and you shouldn't be out either."

"I think I'll stay here. There will be agents all around here once Olivia arrives, and that will keep me close to the work."

"I'm having someone escort me home, but if that's okay with John here, then it's okay with me."

"I don't think she'll like it here, but maybe if she sees how it is, she'll help me get out of here."

"John, those doctors are keeping you here for a reason, so keep your ass tied to that bed like you're supposed to," Fin said sternly. "Good night though. I'll tell this tight wad out here what you're planning."

"I don't need anything special, so don't say anything. He'll figure it out."

"Fine. See you tomorrow," he nodded, leaving the room.

The barrage of sirens let us know that Olivia was here. The tension in the room rose and stayed high as John and I sat in silence, listening to each other breathe without being able to sleep.  
> <p>


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

Around three in the morning, Cragen arrived with Fin in tow, along with another person behind them. He stood against the wall in a cocky sort of way, and I could almost hear Munch's inaudible scoff as Cragen introduced him.

"This is Greg Johnson from Staten Island's police department. He'll be a part of the team until we get our numbers up, and another new person will be here in the morning," Cragen introduced. "We're off Olivia's case, mostly for personal reasons, but also because it's federal now."

"Any leads on his whereabouts?" John asked. Cragen and Fin shook their heads.

"The FBI cut me out of the loop hours ago," Fin replied. "But word from the news points to nothing."

"How's Olivia?" I asked. Cragen sighed heavily.

"She's looking at a lot of rehab and surgery because of this. Her legs are badly damaged, as is her face and hands. She has some other injuries as well, but she can't talk. The damaged skin has swelled, and the doctors are doing their best to treat her. She'll live for now, but she's not out of the woods."

"So why'd you come here at three in the morning?" John asked.

"We were up anyway," Fin whispered. "It looks like you two were too. I told you to go home."

"I've been content with sitting here," I replied. "But I'd consider some mindless paperwork to take me out of here, if there's any."

"There's actually three cases waiting for us, all being handled by others while all this has been going on. That's one for each of you. Handle your own, but don't go anywhere without a partner, at least until this prick gets caught," Cragen said sternly.

"What about me?" John smirked.

"You're going to stay right there," I replied, grabbing my coat and preparing to leave for the precinct. "Someone will come back later, but no food for you until you get better."

"I'm fine," he whispered.

Greg decided this was his moment to step in, and he moved closer to respond.

"It takes time to recover from a gunshot. Take it from me, the fact that you were even on the job days after being shot is a miracle."

"And how would you know this?" John asked coldly.

"That's what happened to my partner, or rather my former partner. He got shot in the leg and thought nothing of it. He did his time, then he went home to recover a few days sooner than he should have. Infection set in, but he ignored it. Now the neighborhood kids call him 'Hop Along Harry' because they had to amputate his leg."

"That's worst-case at its finest. Besides, you don't even know me," John spat.

Cragen and Fin tried to leave, but these two weren't going to stop. Greg attempted to be friendly though, moving closer with a smile.

"I know of your work, and I have to say you're an idol. You helped catch my uncle's murderer years ago, and I've always wanted to thank you. It's an honor to meet you, even if you are a grumpy bastard when you're faced with a little down time."

That didn't sit well with John, but he had no choice but to accept it because we left the hospital, but not before a quick check on Olivia. She looked awful, and I said a little prayer for her in my mind before we left.

My case was a school-based incident from bullying. Apparently New York law changed that year, making bullying victims special victims, meaning schools could file a formal action against bullies within local police precincts like ours.

I knew it would take interviewing to get the stories straight, which meant recruiting a partner. But Fin was buried in a domestic violence suit, and Cragen was nowhere to be found after our return and disbursement. That left me with Greg to ask, but he looked very busy. So I read through what little I had.

After two hours of review, I was ready to make my way to the school and interview the charging principal before school started. By now, Fin and Greg had left to interview their victims, leaving me alone, or so I thought.

"Monty, could I see you in my office a minute?" Cragen asked. I nodded, walking into his office as asked. Inside stood a woman, who shook my hand with a smile. "This is Detective Bonnie Wilson. She's from a unit in Philadelphia that handles similar cases. Wilson, you'll be with her today and help her with her case. And Monty, your techs will be directed by me. I received good reviews about your performance last night, so you will definitely be missed if anything comes up."

I thanked him and led Bonnie to John's desk, where I'd been working to appear apart of the group. I briefed her on the case, then we made our way to the school.

Once there, we immediately interviewed the principal. She set us up a private room afterwards, allowing us to interview everyone involved. There were nine victims total, all saying that an older, troubled student had bullied them over the internet. He apparently made sexual references as well, which made the job even more complicated.

After taking detailed statements from them, I had the suspected bully brought into the room. He sat down nonchalantly and put his feet on top of the table. Bonnie immediately moved them off, giving him a death stare in the process.

"Is there a problem, ladies?" he grinned.

"It's detectives to you, and yes, there is a problem," I replied sternly. "These are printouts from an online chat room. Are the highlighted lines from you?"

"Yeah, but I didn't mean anything by it," he replied. I nodded to Bonnie who brought the boy down, handcuffing him and reading him his rights. "What did I do wrong?"

"You broke a New York law, so you have to come with us," Bonnie replied. "We didn't have this law in Philadelphia, but they should. Stand up, we're going to the car."

"But I can explain!" he hissed. I stopped her from taking him out of the room.

"You have five minutes to explain yourself, then you're going to jail."

"I didn't write those things while sober, honest! I'll tell you where I keep my stash if you'll just let me go!"

"Stash of what?" Bonnie asked.

"Weed. It's legal now, isn't it? That's what Ray said."

"Who's Ray?" I questioned.

"My dealer. He said he smokes blunts in front of cops all the time but they never do anything to him."

"I've heard enough," I sighed, leading them outside. I gave a message to the principal to direct anymore statements to my office, then I drove Bonnie and our suspect back to the precinct.

Sure enough, the idiot gave up his stash and his dealer, and soon we were sorting through those details as well as going over statements from teachers who had witnessed other events of bullying or drug-controlled behavior. Because his drug charges would get him a month in detention anyway, we merely took the statements on the bullying to seal the case. Soon everything was processed and he was in juvie, giving Bonnie and me a free lunch break. We took it at a diner nearby.

"What's Philadelphia like?" I asked. She shrugged.

"I'd say it's the same as New York, but I've been watching the news. We have a smaller volume of regular cases that they do, but it's still a rough world. How long have you been in a special victims unit?"

"A few weeks," I replied. She smiled to me.

"Cragen mentioned there being two newbies, but I thought you were seasoned, especially with how well our interrogation went."

"I was with the Georgia Bureau of Investigation before transferring here, so I am seasoned with the interrogation aspect of things."

"I thought you looked familiar. I have an aunt who lives in Georgia, and she sends me newspaper clippings all the time. They showed you as being related to a victim, but also as aiding the New York leg of the investigation. I never thought it would be permanent."

"My old partner didn't either, but I needed a change. It just happened to come when this came up, so here I am. I like the position though, and Detective Munch has taught me so much."

"Cragen mentioned him, as did my aunt's clippings. How is he doing with his injuries?"

"He's recovering in the hospital, but he's not very happy with things. He'd rather be here, especially with all the high profile cases being splattered around the past few weeks. He just doesn't know what slowing down means I guess."

"Men are like that sometimes. My father is eighty and still runs a shoe store right outside of Philly. My mother has been on him for years to retire, but he just won't do it, at least not without a fight. Mom died last year, so now his sister and her daughter get to lecture him full time."

"My husband's father is the same, but he has a lot of people helping him, so it's not as bad."

"I read up on him online. He was a good man, and I'm sorry he had to go like that. Is he why you wanted into Special Victims?" she asked.

"A little. I knew going in that it wouldn't help him in any way, but I knew it would help people like me, and people like him, who need closure. I'm still seeking some myself, but it helps me rest easy to know that the I-rapist is dead, and he can never hurt another victim," I replied. She smiled softly.

"I'll toast to that."

Soon we were back at the office, where Fin and Greg had returned with nothing on their cases, so we joined them in their investigating.

But as the day passed, we found only a few clues for either case. By six, I was feeling the pressing exhaustion that came from days without good sleep. Cragen sent me home with Fin, who was very willing to drive me to Mercy to visit Olivia and John before heading back to the apartment.

Olivia was in surgery when we arrived, so we went up to John's room. He was asleep when we came in, but he was soon awake and talking to Fin about something I didn't understand.

I drifted off during this time. Apparently the men noticed, because when I woke up, there was a blanket over me and Fin was gone.

The clock read two when I checked it, and John was asleep nearby. I knew there was nowhere I needed to be, so I tucked myself in and went back to sleep. 


End file.
